


round and round (we go)

by dhyuckiees (celegant)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, please mind the tags at the beginning of each chapter, will periodically update
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28211802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celegant/pseuds/dhyuckiees
Summary: At the end of the day, it'll always come back tothem—Mark and Donghyuck, through countless iterations and countless universes.--(a collection of some of my longer drabbles from twitter, from various prompts and challenges)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 39
Kudos: 154





	1. Prompt: Mistletoe (Hogwarts AU + Prank gone wrong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mark is cursed with a mistletoe that's hexed to follow him around everywhere (everybody say thank you renjun)

“Renjun,” Mark calls out through gritted teeth. “Undo the spell.”

The Slytherin in question just hums response and reclines further into the couch, not even bothering to look up from his book to where Mark stands in front of him, fists clenched tightly by his sides. 

Renjun turns a page, hands deliberately slow. “Nope,” he chirps, popping the ‘p’ with an amused smirk. He turns another page, eyes skimming up to the top of the text. “I only had one condition, Mark. It really shouldn’t be this hard for you.”

“ _Why_ are you doing this?” Mark hisses. “You know I won’t—No, you know I _can’t_ —” 

Mark jumps then, the action sudden—shoulders tensing and eyes quickly darting towards the side when the entrance to the Slytherin common room swings wide open with a slight _bang_. Above him, floating half a foot in the air over Mark’s head, the enchanted mistletoe jerks excitedly in the door’s direction. 

Jaemin walks through the entrance, and Mark unconsciously lets out a sigh of relief. The mistletoe above him deflates too, stems wilting just ever so slightly. 

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at that, pausing at the threshold of the entrance as a slow, shit-eating grin stretches across his face. He takes in Mark’s unexpected presence in the dungeons, the red of Mark’s robes sticking out like a sore thumb against the mottled greens and grays of the rest of the decor around them, before making his way over to the couches. He tries to plant a quick kiss onto Mark’s unsuspecting cheek, and just barely manages to dodge the arm that comes swinging when Mark bristles and jerks away in the last second. 

Renjun finally looks up then, raising an eyebrow at Jaemin in greeting as his fellow Slytherin flops down unceremoniously next to him. 

“A little eager, aren’t we, Mark?” Jaemin says, grin shameless as he blinks up guilelessly at Mark. His eyes pointedly dart up to the offending mistletoe, and he barks out a laugh when Mark scowls. “Hyuck’s still at practice, though he’ll probably be back soon if you wanted to wait upstairs—” 

Mark ignores him though, turning back to Renjun with a hint of hysterical desperation seeping into his voice. 

“Renjun, _c’mon_ ,” he says, tone dangerously close to a whine. “The counterspell. _Now_.” 

“It’s literally just Donghyuck, what in the world are you so afraid of?”

 _Everything,_ Mark wants to say, jaw snapping shut as he shakes his head in response instead. Despite his best efforts though, the sudden flush that creeps up Mark’s cheeks ends up giving him away anyway. 

He hears Jaemin snort from the sidelines, and he grits his teeth once more and tries for another tactic—pity. 

“Do you even know how many people I’ve had to run away from today?” Mark argues, pride in the gutter as he recalls this morning’s earlier incidents. He looks up and shoots another tired glare at the source of all of his problems. “I’ve been dodging kisses from random people all day because of this thing. Yukhei even had to hide me in the Hufflepuff dorms for a while because Yuta wouldn’t stop trying.” He pouts then, more than a little defeated. “So please? Can you make it stop?”

Renjun only sighs, book snapping shut in his hands as he finally levels Mark with a _look_. 

“You know the rules, Mark,” Renjun says flatly. “It’ll only go away when _you’re_ the one to initiate the kiss.”

“But—” 

“And it won’t work if someone else tries to get to you first,” Renjun continues, as if reciting something from memory. He crosses his arms in front of him, every bit the stubborn, level-headed pureblood he was raised to be. “So, no, I’m not undoing the spell. Not until you finally spare us from _all_ of the pathetic pining you two idiots have been subjecting us to these past couple of weeks.” 

“We haven’t been _pining—_ ”

“Yeah,” Jaemin murmurs under his breath. “And Renjun and I haven’t been—” He’s cut off by a violent jab into his ribs, followed by a pained cough.

“You two have been acting all weird and shit since the Yule Ball,” Renjun says suddenly. Mark blinks in surprise and opens his mouth to protest but Renjun beats him to it. “Don’t even try to deny it, I’ve had to listen to him whine about you for almost a month, Mark, an entire _month_.” Renjun sighs then, an exasperated little sound. “So if you could please?” 

Mark’s brows furrow, dread pooling low in his stomach. “Please what?”

The mistletoe above him starts to rustle noisily, bristling and jerking as it had done earlier and drawing their attention towards the entrance to the Slytherin common room as it swings open once more. There’s a faint murmuring of voices, a small group of people from the sounds of it, growing louder with each passing second. 

The dread from earlier spreads, constricting around his ribs and turning Mark’s hands clammy as he keeps his eyes on the empty entryway. It takes no more than a handful of seconds passing before he catches a glimpse of Donghyuck leading the crowd, his Quidditch bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder and freshly bleached hair still slightly damp from his after-practice shower. 

The mistletoe—and Mark _swears_ it’s got a life of its own—starts shaking in excitement, leaves stretching out impatiently towards Donghyuck as if saying, ‘ _There, Human! That’s the one!_ ’ 

Mark freezes where he stands, rooted in place when Donghyuck’s gaze eventually settles on _him_ , eyes widening in terrified surprise. Off to the side, Jaemin’s shoulders start shaking in mirth, and Renjun just smiles, the picture-perfect image of innocence as he lowers his voice, words so soft only Mark could hear him.

“Please, as in, _please_ get your shit together and just kiss him already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dhyuckiees) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dhyuckIees)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^ i'd love to know which ones people are interested in me potentially continuing in the future, so kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	2. Prompt: Angel (Fallen Angel AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fallen angel mark + mortal hyuck

There’s a second, right after Mark hesitantly takes his shirt off, where Donghyuck’s heart stops in his chest.

“I promise,” Mark murmurs faintly in front of him, “that it didn’t hurt as bad as it probably looks.”

With Mark’s back turned towards him, Donghyuck’s grateful that Mark can’t see the myriad of emotions that flicker across his face in quick succession. There’s the shocked horror, at first, almost paralyzing as it zips through him at the sight, followed by an overwhelming mixture of shame and guilt that claws its way up his throat, clamping around it and _squeezing_ until it felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

Donghyuck’s eyes trace over the twin scars that run from just underneath Mark’s shoulder blades down to the middle of his back—raw and red, still in the process of healing from the looks of it. The scars are ragged around the edges, not a clean cut by any means. He can only imagine what it must’ve been like, having your wings ripped out of you while you’re awake and conscious, knees digging into cold stone and arms shackled to the wall above you.

 _Painful_ , Donghyuck thinks, eyes slipping shut at the sudden nausea that comes unbidden with the thought. _It must have been so, so painful._

“You—” Donghyuck manages to croak out, voice cracking with emotion as one shaky hand reaches out and hovers over the injury. He doesn’t touch—he was never really allowed to, even back then—but it’s worse now, somehow, knowing that _he_ was the cause of this, of all the pain he can only imagine Mark had to go through just to get here. 

“You stupid, stupid, _stupid_ fucking _idiot_.” A distressed whimper escapes him before he can help it. “Mark—”

Mark’s quick to turn around at the sound of his name, pulling Donghyuck in by his outstretched hand and tugging him into a tight embrace. Donghyuck tries to struggle out of Mark’s hold, a half-hearted attempt at maintaining that all-too-familiar distance between them, but it only lasts for all but a second, all of the fight leaving him the moment Mark reaches up to cup the side of Donghyuck’s face.

Mark tips his face up, gaze softening as his thumb brushes gently—always, _always_ far too gently—across Donghyuck’s cheek. It’s a familiar gesture, one he’d never thought he’d get to experience ever again, and Donghyuck’s eyes start to sting with unshed tears. 

He doesn’t let them fall though. Not when he knows he has no right to. 

_Why_ , he wants to ask, the first of an endless stream of questions on the tip of his tongue. _Why didn’t Mark think of the consequences? Of all the people he’s chosen to leave behind? Why did it have to come to this—_

Instead though, Donghyuck says the first thing that came to mind as soon as he saw Mark at his doorstep, wingless and terrified that Donghyuck might turn him away.

“You can’t go home,” Donghyuck whispers, a broken sense of rushed urgency lacing his words. “You can _never_ go home, Mark, do you even understand that?”

Mark interrupts him with a shake of the end, an inexplicably fond smile on his face before he stops Donghyuck’s rambling the only way he knows how—dipping his head down and finally, _finally_ capturing Donghyuck’s lips in a soft, tender kiss, one that was far too long overdue.

“I don’t need to, Donghyuck. Not anymore,” Mark whispers as he pulls back ever so slightly, lips brushing against Donghyuck’s own. “Not when it was never home in the first place.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dhyuckiees) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dhyuckIees)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^ i'd love to know which ones people are interested in me potentially continuing in the future, so kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	3. Prompt: Scarf (tw MCD)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw off-screen/mentioned major character death
> 
> Some habits are tougher to break than others. Donghyuck remembers, and waits. (And waits, and waits.)

When Donghyuck wakes up, alone and curled up on the wrong side of the bed, it’s to the near deafening silence of the rest of their apartment. 

He stares blankly at the ceiling, and counts the seconds in his head as he listens for the sounds he knows won’t be coming—he doesn’t hear the muted rush of water running in the shower, or the soft clinking of glassware in the kitchen, and there’s none of the routine soft strumming of a guitar from their living room.

He waits for the warmth of a familiar hand, gentle as ever as it cards through his hair in an effort to wake him up. He closes his eyes and waits for the way those fingers used to travel down to caress his face, thumb brushing fondly against his cheek. Then, he opens his eyes, vision blurry as he takes in a shuddering breath. He imagines the phantom press of lips against his forehead, desperately hoping for the accompanying ‘ _good morning, baby_ ,’ that had been whispered into his ear as part of their every day for the last three years.

He waits, chest tightening unfailingly, and then he remembers. 

(It didn’t really hit him until much later. Not until Renjun had come quietly knocking at his door, eyes downcast and unable to meet Donghyuck’s own—a small mercy, Donghyuck had thought at the time. The endless pity in each and every one of their faces had been getting tiring. 

“I found this,” Renjun had said, voice quiet, almost a whisper. Fragile, like the stagnant, tenuous air that lingered around their—Mark’s and Donghyuck’s—old bedroom. “And I wasn’t sure if you—” Renjun cuts himself off with a small shake of the head, as if minding his mistake. “Did you want us to put it with the rest of his stuff?”

Donghyuck had only stared at the proffered item, unmoving, breath caught in his throat. He stared, and stared, and then stared some more, unseeing. And Renjun waited, because he knew exactly what it was. What it hadmeant _,_ to Mark. 

What it had meant, to _them._

The shredded remains of a thin, black scarf, fraying a little at the edges with well-worn age—Mark’s old favourite, recovered from the crash. The first thing Donghyuck had ever given him as a gift, after they’d gotten together, and the last thing he’d given Mark, tossed over to him casually with a reminder to stay warm before Mark had left on that fateful morning.

“Not this,” Donghyuck had eventually rasped out, weakly reaching out for the fabric with shaking fingers. “Not—” 

“Donghyuck, you don’t have to—”

“Please,” Donghyuck had pleaded, staggering forward at the sudden urgency that consumed him at the prospect of losing yet another remnant of Mark. Renjun had caught him as his knees buckled, hands tightening around Donghyuck’s arms as he’d gently lowered them to the carpeted floor. 

Donghyuck had clutched the scarf to his chest as he’d curled into himself, head shaking over and over again. “Anything but this.”)

Some habits are tougher to break than others. Donghyuck rolls over and looks over to their bedside table, where Mark’s old scarf sits folded neatly next to an old pair of wire-rimmed glasses and a small velvet box. He’d stared at it for hours last night, until the sun had set and his eyes had burned and blurred, blinking into the darkness as he waited for another dreamless sleep to take him. 

Sometimes, he thinks he may be getting used to it—to the silence, to the heartache. It’s probably what frightens Donghyuck the most.

He buries his face into Mark’s pillow, breathing in the faint traces of Mark’s old cologne. Inhale, the scent clings stubbornly, comfortingly. Exhale, counting down the slow seconds from ten. Rinse and repeat. He tries to will the tears away, but just like every other morning that has passed since then, he knows it’s futile.

Instead, Donghyuck just closes his eyes, and waits. 

(And waits, and waits.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dhyuckiees) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dhyuckIees)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^ i'd love to know which ones people are interested in me potentially continuing in the future, so kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	4. Prompt: Ice Skating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NHL players Mark and Donghyuck reuniting at the All Stars Games ft. a long-standing Bet

Mark receives the text not even two minutes after his GM breaks the news to the team.

‘ _Congrats on winning the vote, Captain.’_

A seemingly innocuous message at first, but Mark doesn’t have to imagine the teasing smirk hidden behind the mention of his newly acquired title—all too familiar with the way Donghyuck has learned to weaponize the word, lips forming around the syllables in ways he knows can bring Mark down to his knees in a heartbeat.

Another message comes in before Mark even has a chance to reply.

‘ _Bet from last time still stands. Fastest skate, or Accuracy_?”

An old tradition, of sorts. One that Mark hasn’t lost in the last two years since Donghyuck had first proposed the bet. Mark wracks his brain for the unannounced roster of participants for the Skills Competition and tries to remember which events both he and Donghyuck were assigned to.

He grins, fingers tapping quickly before pocketing his phone.

‘ _Fastest skate. Better luck next year, Hyuck_.’

* * *

The All-Star Games. A yearly showcase of the NHL’s best and brightest going head to head in the Skills Competition, followed by a 3-on-3 exhibition match. It’s Mark’s fourth year as an All-Star, and his second year in a row where he’s been voted in as captain of the Pacific Division by the fans, shooting up the popularity polls after he’d won _Fastest Skater_ in his rookie year.

Despite their history, both in Juniors and even before that, he really only sees Donghyuck a handful times a year outside of their regular divisional matches. A stolen weekend during the pre-season here, an impromptu visit after a roadie there, but the All-Star Games has always been somewhat of a special event to them specifically, even after all of the so-called prestige that came with being chosen for it.

After all, it isn’t every day that Mark and Donghyuck get to play on the same team instead of facing off against each other on the ice.

(He doesn’t _quite_ know what they are. They’ve never really put a label on it, and quite frankly, neither of them are really willing to acknowledge it, what with their being on opposing teams. Hell, they weren’t even in the same _country_ most days of the year—with Mark up in Edmonton, and Donghyuck having been recently traded to Vegas.

But it’s fine. Mark knows better than to rock the boat at this point, especially not when this _arrangement_ seems to be working just fine for either of them.)

The first half of the weekend goes about how Mark would expect, shuffling through all of the formalities that come with all the events. It isn’t until he’s up for his lap around the rink once more, skating down to the center red line, that he meets Donghyuck’s eyes from where he sits on the bench with the other players.

13.8 seconds. That’s all he has to beat to knock Donghyuck out of first place and win the bet.

He sees Donghyuck tilt his head from the corner of his eye, smile coy as he raises an eyebrow at Mark from across the ice. Donghyuck’s eyes dart down quickly once, pointedly lingering, smile turning into a knowing smirk before snapping back up to meet Mark’s gaze with a cheeky wink.

Mark can’t help the flush that creeps up the back of his neck at the action, turning around to get ready for the whistle. He knows Donghyuck’s just trying to distract him, letting out a slow exhale as he tries to focus on the task at hand.

He gets into position, muscles tense for take off and ears straining for the whistle, and that’s when he hears it—

‘ _Mark Lee_!’

Donghyuck’s voice, cheering out for him at the same time as the whistle blows, and Mark knows the half-second of hesitation that followed just cost him his lap as he surges forward, skates crossing over as he flies towards one end of the rink, cutting close behind the net and picking up speed as he rounds the corners.

He finishes the lap at 14.1 seconds. Donghyuck’s face is insufferably smug when he glides back to the bench.

Mark’s lips twitch in helpless amusement when he hops over the boards. “You cheated, asshole.”

“Not my fault you’re easily distracted, Cap’n,” Donghyuck sing-songs, keeping his eyes focused out on the ice before him, the very image of unaffected nonchalance.

It isn’t until the last player has finished his lap and the announcers start to blare out with congratulations for Donghyuck that said boy finally, _finally_ looks back at Mark next to him, leaning in close and uncaring of the commotion around them.

“A deal’s a deal though,” Donghyuck whispers, grin sharp as the tips of Mark’s ears burn a bright red. “And apologies in advance, for tomorrow’s exhibition game.”

Mark should know better than to ask, really. “Tomorrow?”

“Oh, Markie. Babe,” Donghyuck snorts. “You’re funny if you think you’re going to be able to stand, let alone skate, by the time I’m done with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dhyuckiees) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dhyuckIees)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^ i'd love to know which ones people are interested in me potentially continuing in the future, so kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	5. Prompt: Bedtime Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark, Donghyuck, and another sleepless night with their new baby.

Donghyuck hears it first, waking up and bolting upright in bed as the baby monitor crackles to life on their bedside table, the tinny cries of their newly adopted baby piercing through the silence of their bedroom. 

He rubs tiredly at his face, blindly reaching under his pillow to reach for his phone. 4:23 AM, it reads, and Donghyuck suppresses the urge to lay back down and sleep—it’s been a rough night for them both, and it hasn’t even been three hours since the last time he’d had to get up to check on the baby. 

Two weeks into this whole parenting thing, and Donghyuck was almost ready to call it quits. 

There’s a soft rustling of the sheets beside him, Mark rousing from his sleep as he winds an arm around Donghyuck’s waist to forcibly pull him back into bed. Mark holds him in place, for just a moment, and he can’t help but melt against the warmth of Mark’s chest against his back, eyelids heavy as he blearily blinks up into the darkness of their bedroom.

“I got him,” Mark murmurs, voice sleep-rough as he nuzzles into the back of Donghyuck’s neck. He feels Mark leave a quick kiss to his bare shoulder, and he’s entirely too tired to protest when Mark moves to get up, pulling the blankets back up to tuck Donghyuck in before getting out of bed. “I’ll go check on him. Go back to sleep, Hyuck.”

“But—”

“It’s my turn anyway,” Mark shakes his head, gently interrupting him as he cards his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair. “I’ll stay with him until he goes back to sleep.”

Donghyuck only nods wordlessly in response, already halfway back asleep, and he feels Mark lean down to press a kiss onto his forehead before straightening up. 

He doesn’t quite know how much time actually passes as he sleeps—an hour, or maybe two, he isn’t quite sure. But the next time he blinks awake, brain taking a second to catch up on his surroundings, Mark is still nowhere to be found. There’s a faint murmuring coming from the baby monitor, but the sound’s too soft for the microphone to properly pick up. 

Donghyuck sits up, stretching and rummaging around for one of Mark’s old sleep shirts, before padding his way down to the nursery. He moves to knock quietly on the door to announce his arrival but stops short, instead choosing to lean quietly against the doorframe, chest tightening with unabashed affection when he takes in the scene before him. 

Mark stands in the middle of the nursery, one arm holding their son close to his chest—the baby’s cheek squished adorably against Mark’s shoulder—as Mark slowly shifts from foot to foot, trying to rock him back to sleep. Mark’s free hand has a small book open in front of him, well-worn with age around the edges as he quietly reads it out loud. 

An old bedtime story, Donghyuck faintly recognizes, one of Mark’s old favourites from when they were kids. 

Mark sees Donghyuck in the corner of his eye, greeting him with a small, tired smile as he continues on reading, voice low and soothing as the baby’s eyes start to flutter shut. Their baby rubs his face sleepily against the crook of Mark’s neck, tiny fingers clutching tightly onto Mark’s sleeve as his breathing finally, _finally_ starts to even out, and Donghyuck takes that as his cue to step inside the room, gently taking the baby from Mark’s hold to put him back into the crib.

Donghyuck lays the baby back down against his pillows, making sure to tuck his favourite little plush toy underneath his arm to keep him company. He runs a gentle finger down one of the baby’s chubby cheeks, expression softening into a small, fond smile when the baby turns towards him in his sleep, chasing the warmth of Donghyuck’s hand. 

He takes a second to just take him in, still not quite believing that he’s _theirs_ —his and Mark’s—and that’s when he feels Mark comes up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist as he hooks his chin over Donghyuck’s shoulder. 

“You know,” Donghyuck hums, leaning back against Mark with a small, teasing grin, eyes never leaving their baby. “Your son’s kind of cute.”

Mark snorts, before tiredly burying his face into Donghyuck’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, well _your_ son took forever to stop crying,” he mumbles. “Didn’t stop until I played one of your songs from my phone and he heard your voice.” Donghyuck doesn’t have to turn to know that Mark’s pouting, can hear it in his voice as he asks, “How are you already the favourite?” 

Donghyuck grins and shrugs, turning around in Mark’s hold to frame Mark’s face with one of his hands, thumb brushing gently against the tired bags underneath Mark’s eyes. Mark catches Donghyuck’s hand and covers it with his own, never breaking eye contact as he shifts to press a kiss into the palm of Donghyuck’s hand.

“Of course, I’m the favourite,” Donghyuck teasingly whispers, leaning in and feeling Mark smile into the kiss. 

“Our son takes after you, after all.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dhyuckiees) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dhyuckIees)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^ i'd love to know which ones people are interested in me potentially continuing in the future, so kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	6. Prompt: Summoning a demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mark accidentally summoning a (horny) demon

Mark can understand why it can be addicting for some, why the elder mages considered it dangerous. It’s in the uncertainty of what—or _who_ —you’re going to get, the thrill of playing a little game of Russian roulette.

He stares at the prone figure lying in the middle of the summoning glyph, blinking back up at Mark slowly, its wide, doe eyes almost twinkling in the low light of the candles scattered around the room for the ritual. There’s a split second where Mark almost thinks he’s made a mistake, that he’d fucked up the summon and had somehow ended up with another human—one that looks like he’d been taken straight out of Mark’s wet dreams, but a human nonetheless. Golden skin and honey brown hair, features soft, almost delicate.

But then Mark takes in the twin horns decorating the crown of the other’s head, as black as the midnight sky, and the matching tail, long and slender, swishing back and forth in a lazy rhythm behind it.

Beautiful, Mark thinks, unbelievably so, and definitely not of this earth.

The demon(?) stretches languidly, arms raised and back arching against the cold stone floor of Mark’s basement, almost like a house-cat waking up from an afternoon nap. And when he smiles in Mark’s direction, the barest hint of a set of fangs peeking through, Mark feels the hairs in the back of his neck stand in attention.

_Danger, danger, danger._

There are about a million warning bells going off in Mark’s head, but he can’t help but stare, utterly transfixed, as the demon rolls onto his stomach, propped up on his elbows as he studies Mark’s frozen figure by the corner of the room. The demon hums lightly, chin resting on the palm of his hand as his eyes rake over Mark’s body—a full once-over from top to bottom—before it raises an eyebrow in appreciation, lips tugging up in a small smirk.

“Nice.”

Mark can’t help the sudden flush that runs all the way down his neck at the scrutiny.

“Nice?” Mark echoes, voice coming out more like a squeak than anything else. He clears his throat then, in an attempt to salvage an ounce of his remaining dignity. “I’m Mark, I was the one who summoned you here as my new familiar,” he explains. “But before we start, what exactly…are you?”

The demon barks out a laugh—the sound harsh, almost grating against Mark’s ears—before getting up, movements imbued with a fluid grace that gives him away. He makes his way over to Mark, who takes an involuntary step back, the back of his knees hitting a chair that the demon pushes him onto, before clambering onto his lap not even a second later.

“My name’s Donghyuck,” the demon purrs, arms coming up to circle around the tense line of Mark’s shoulders as he shifts forward, pressing their chests flush together. “And _Darling_ , couldn’t you tell?”

Mark feels his breath hitch as Donghyuck’s face inches closer, breath ghosting over Mark’s lips as he pauses for a moment before changing course, angling to whisper into Mark’s ear instead.

“You were foolish enough to summon an incubus, dear boy,” Donghyuck says, his tone almost pitying.

Donghyuck licks the shell of his ear teasingly, and Mark stiffens, both from the action and at the feeling of the tip of Donghyuck’s tail tracing its way up his chest and along the column of his throat, almost curious in its exploration. An unconscious effort, maybe, on Donghyuck’s part. He’s sizing him up, Mark realizes. His next meal in what’s probably been centuries.

It’s all part of the game—the all too familiar scene of a predator taunting its prey right before they pounce.

And, in a moment of absolute clarity, Mark finally _understands—_ understands why the ritual was forbidden in the first place, why they say the gamble is never worth it.

There’s no salvation from something like _this._ Temptation incarnate.

“And I’m sure you know _exactly_ what it is we ask for in return for our power, yes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dhyuckiees) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dhyuckIees)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^ i'd love to know which ones people are interested in me potentially continuing in the future, so kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	7. Prompt: Break-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mark misses another date, and donghyuck finally draws the line

“Hello?”

“Mark?” Donghyuck frowns, phone held up to his ear as he strains to hear Mark’s voice on the other end of the line. “Where are you?”

“What do you mean?” Mark asks. Donghyuck frowns as he hears the low murmur of activity in the background. “I’m still at work, where else would I—”

“You forgot again, didn’t you?”

A pause. “What?”

Donghyuck sighs, and he raises a hand to flag a waiter down. “It’s nothing. I’ll meet you at home.”

He hangs up before Mark could give himself a chance to come up with another excuse, pocketing his phone with an irritated huff. He looks down at the table, at the two wine glasses in front of him—his own half-full, Mark’s glass waiting for him untouched—and at the empty seat across from him.

It was starting to become entirely too familiar, he thinks. The sting of disappointment, the bitter taste of resentment that sits heavily on his tongue. He reaches out, downing his glass all in one go, and he only hesitates for a second before downing Mark’s as well.

The waiter arrives. He cancels their order and pays the bill, ignoring the incessant ringing of his phone in his pocket.

Donghyuck continues to ignore the ringing, even as he gets into a taxi to go home. There's no point to it now, he thinks. He doesn't think he'd be able to listen to Mark fumble through another meaningless apology—his heart probably wouldn't be able to take another promise of _‘I’ll do better’_ or _‘I swear I'll make it up to you’_.

He leans his head against the cold tinted window, watching as the gray skies rumble once, then twice, before crashing down onto them in a torrential summer rain. It's just another sign, probably, just the universe trying to kick him while he's already down.

He closes his eyes and listens to the harsh pitter-patter of rain against the window.

* * *

At this point, all he wanted to do was to head straight for bed. He didn't want another confrontation. Not tonight, at least.

He was tired. More than that, he was _done._

Mark opens the door to the apartment, just as Donghyuck was about to reach for the doorknob.

“Hyuck, God, I'm so sor—”

“Stop,” Donghyuck interrupts, jaw clenched, and gaze fixed firmly onto the floor. “I don't want to hear it.”

He moves to shoulder Mark out of the way, entering the apartment with a crumbling sense of false bravado. He knows if he takes one look at Mark's face, he'd give in.

It's how it always is, after all.

Mark gets a hand on his wrist before he could run away, grip tight, but not overly so--he knows he could break away if he wanted to.

“Can you just stop for a second and listen—”

He can't help the spike of indignation that shoots up his spine. Mark's had his chances, but even Donghyuck had his limits. He can only be so generous, after all, especially after all this time.

“What part of ‘ _no’_ didn't you fucking understand, Mark?”

“If you could just give me a chance—”

“I have!” Donghyuck shouts. He hates the burning that begins in the back of his throat. So fucking _weak._ “And you've fucked it up every single time. Have many more chances do you expect me to give you?”

He rips his hand away, turning around to face his boyfriend properly.

“I didn't think you to be the type to be this cruel, Mark,” Donghyuck's voice wavers, but he trudges on. “But I guess I was wrong.”

A beat passes, and Mark says nothing. Donghyuck lets out a hopeless little laugh. Of course. Of _fucking_ course.

He turns back around, making a beeline for their bedroom. He grabs the first duffel bag he could find, hastily stuffing whatever clothes he could reach for—whether they were his or Mark's, he didn't know. He didn't care, at this point.

All he knows is that he couldn't stand being in this apartment for a second longer.

Mark watches him move around the room by the door, expression terrifyingly neutral. It's a pity, Donghyuck thinks. He used to be able to read Mark so well. He wonders when that'd stopped being true.

It's only when his bag's been packed and he's already halfway to their front door that Mark finally speaks up.

“That's it, then?” Mark's voice is steely, colder than Donghyuck's ever heard it. “Just like that?”

Donghyuck snorts, and he turns around one last time. He’s smiling, but he can't even imagine how twisted it must look.

“Just like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dhyuckiees) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dhyuckIees)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^ i'd love to know which ones people are interested in me potentially continuing in the future, so kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	8. Prompt: Flower Shop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> donghyuck asks for fuck-you flowers, and luckily mark knows exactly what to get for him

Mark leans against the counter, chin resting in the palm of his hand as his eyes follow the curious purple-haired customer—the only other person in the empty story other than himself. He’d come in quite some time ago, lingering over by the display behind the storefront window, gaze concentrated on the phone in his hand. 

He tilts his head, the beginnings of a smile growing on his face when he sees the other boy furrow his brows at something on his screen. 

“Can I help you?” Mark calls out. “You look a little stuck over there.”

The boy startles, looking up and around before spotting Mark on the other side of the room. His gaze lingers on Mark’s face for a second, before dropping down to his apron, where the shop’s logo is displayed front and centre. He brightens up then, before making his way over to the counter with a determined look on his face.

“Do you have a particular type of flower you’re looking for—”

“I need _‘fuck you’_ flowers.”

Mark blinks. “Come again?”

“I need—” The boy taps through his phone once more, before setting it down onto the counter and sliding it towards him. The boy taps his fingers on the counter, pointing towards the image on the phone. “I need a bouquet to tell someone to go fuck themselves.” 

“O-of course,” Mark says, before coughing a laugh behind a fist. He moves to go around the counter, beckoning the boy to follow him through the shop. “I, uh, I actually know just the thing.”

“You do?” An amused grin. “Is this a regular thing that people ask for?”

Mark laughs, before shaking his head. “Fortunately, no,” he says. “But I _have_ made one for myself, if that counts? Figured I’d make use of that employee discount somehow.”

A raised eyebrow, coupled by a contemplative hum. “Who was the lucky recipient?”

Mark grins over his shoulder. “Cheating ex-boyfriend.” 

“Sounds like I found just the right guy for the job then,” the boy says, mirroring Mark’s grin with one of his own. “Think you can make me one of those too? Doesn’t matter how much it’ll be.”

“Sure thing, man.” 

Mark makes quick work of picking the flowers, making use of the countless hours spent looking up the specific types he’d need for a ‘fuck you’ bouquet—geraniums, peonies, yellow carnations, and a handful of orange lilies, just for that extra hint of ‘ _hatred_ ’. He takes his time explaining the purpose of each flower to the boy, who listens on with a curious smile, nodding attentively as Mark goes on and on. 

Eventually, he rings the flowers up at the counter, making sure to use the nicest wrapping they had as he arranges the bouquet into something more manageable. 

“Here you go,” Mark chirps, brandishing the bouquet with slight jazz-hands. “One set of ‘ _fuck you_ ’ flowers, ready to go.”

The boy takes the bouquet with a wry grin. “You’re a lifesaver, really. How much?”

Mark only shakes his head in reply. “On the house.”

The boy blinks, eyes wide. “No way, I can’t—” 

“Really, it’s no problem,” Mark interrupts, eyes sympathetic as he shrugs. “Like I said, I’ve been there, y’know? I’m sure you didn’t deserve it.” 

“Donghyuck.”

Mark pauses. “What?”

“My name,” the boy says. “For, uh, when I take you out for dinner as a thank you. Only if you want to, of course—” Donghyuck grins then, a light flush on his cheeks as he looks down at the bouquet. “It’s Donghyuck. Lee Donghyuck.” 

“Nice to meet you, Donghyuck,” Mark smiles. “My name’s Mark, and my shift ends in ten minutes.”

Donghyuck grins. “It’s a date then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dhyuckiees) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dhyuckIees)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^ i'd love to know which ones people are interested in me potentially continuing in the future, so kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	9. Prompt: Canon Compliant + Tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> donghyuck's tired. mark understands.

Mark gently raps his knuckles against the door, knocking twice, and Johnny’s relieved face greets him only a handful of seconds later. 

“How is he?” Mark murmurs, brows furrowing in concern. He peeks past Johnny and into the dark room, most of the lights turned off save for Donghyuck’s little bedside lamp. The whole floor is quiet, and unusually so—lacking the cacophony of noise from Donghyuck’s games, or the low hum of music from Taeyong’s room.

Donghyuck must be worse off than he thought, if the whole dorm is giving him some space. 

Johnny sighs, running a tired hand over his face. He looks back over his shoulder, and Mark can see an unmoving lump of blankets on top of Donghyuck’s bed. 

“It’s… pretty bad,” Johnny says, voice low, almost a whisper. “He’s been under there since he got home. Wouldn’t talk to any of us, and he hasn’t eaten dinner yet.” Johnny lifts one shoulder in a small shrug. “He might be asleep, but I’m honestly not sure.”

Mark frowns, teeth worrying his bottom lip, but he nods in thanks as Johnny opens the door wider to let him in. 

“Thanks, hyung,” he whispers. “I’ve got it from here.”

“I’ll go crash upstairs with Jae,” Johnny says, the corners of his lips lifting in a tired smile as he makes to leave. “So you can stay the night, if you want.” 

Mark nods once more, throwing Johnny a grateful smile before closing the door behind him. He turns around, mentally counting the seconds tick by in the quiet of the room as he moves to sit down by the foot of Donghyuck’s bed. He says nothing, waiting for Donghyuck until he’s ready, and another minute passes before the edge of the blanket lifts, just ever so slightly—a silent invitation, now that the coast is clear. 

Mark smiles and slips under the sheets, and almost immediately, Donghyuck shoots out of the blankets and latches onto him, pulling him into the middle of the bed so he could bury his face into the crook of Mark’s neck. He’s quick to wrap his arm around Donghyuck’s waist to pull him in close, and that’s when he notices the tremors wracking down Donghyuck’s body. 

“Hyuck?” Mark whispers, a hand running up and down Donghyuck’s side in a comforting gesture. 

Donghyuck just shakes his head in response, fingers clenching around the front of Mark’s shirt. There are no tears—there never are—but the shaking doesn’t stop, so Mark presses a kiss to the crown of Donghyuck’s head and shifts, pulling Donghyuck up to lay on his chest instead. He shushes Donghyuck gently, one arm securely wrapped around Donghyuck’s waist as the other hand comes up to pet the back of Donghyuck’s hair, fingers playing with the strands as he presses Donghyuck’s face back into his neck.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Mark murmurs against Donghyuck’s hair. “I’m here, you’ll be okay.”

“I’m—” Donghyuck rasps, voice cracking. “I’m so fucking tired, Mark.” A shaky breath, then Donghyuck’s voice lowering to a whisper, almost silent as he mouths the words against Mark’s skin. “I’m so tired.”

“I know, baby,” Mark says, eyes slipping shut at the distress in Donghyuck’s voice as he tightens his embrace. More than anyone, they both know that Mark _understands_ —no further words needed between them. “I know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dhyuckiees) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dhyuckIees)
> 
> thank you for reading ^^ i'd love to know which ones people are interested in me potentially continuing in the future, so kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


End file.
